


hala hala (hearts awakened, live afraid)

by voidrinker



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horror, Explicit Language, M/M, TW blood!!!, Violence, demon!San, ummmm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 16:54:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20660558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voidrinker/pseuds/voidrinker
Summary: “Hey, Hongjoong. Hongjoong.”“Yunho?” Hongjoong’s voice cracked with sleep. “What’s wrong?”“Um, San’s on the ceiling.”





	hala hala (hearts awakened, live afraid)

Wooyoung snickered.

His head rose and fell with San’s chest; his cheek squished into the other’s body. Both boys stared mindlessly into their phone screens, their own names staring back at them. Wooyoung’s lips curled upwards as he clicked on another thread of comments under his boyfriend’s performance earlier that week.

** _It’s really like he becomes a different person._ **

** _Like he’s possessed._ **

** _That’s one sexy demon._ **

A gif of San throwing his head back only to snap it back up and stare maniacally into the camera repeated over and over. 

** _The Hala Hala demon!_ **

“Sannie.”

“Mm?” San glanced down at Wooyoung, catching a glimpse of himself on the other’s screen.

“Did you know they’re calling you a demon?”

“Mm. I’m just that good.” 

Wooyoung gasped and lifted his hand to hit the older boy teasingly, his smile growing even larger. “You actually look kinda scary in some of these screenshots,” he said.

“Yeah?” San shifted downwards, forcing Wooyoung onto his shoulder instead of his chest to get a better view of the other’s phone. Wooyoung opened a picture of San with his eyes rolled back into his head and his mouth as wide as half his face.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung giggled.

“I guess I do get a bit... into it.” San squinted at himself, disbelief and a bit of laughter lacing his voice. 

“_A bit _ into it?”

“_A lot _ into it.” He took two fingers to zoom in on his own evil grin and grimaced. “Jeez, when even was this?”  
  
“Like, Tuesday?” Wooyoung knocked San’s hand out of the way to press his own finger down on the picture and save it to his gallery. San let out a noise of surprise, and Wooyoung shut off his phone. He twisted his body around to stuff his face against San’s neck and whispered: “It’s kinda hot.” Another strangled noise left San’s throat when Wooyoung pressed a kiss to his neck, then leaned backwards to run a hand through his fluffy black and red hair. “The Hala Hala demon.” 

Warmth spread through San’s body, and he leaned down to plant his own kiss on Wooyoung’s lips. Then two. Then three. When the younger’s hand curled in his hair, he took it as an invitation to deepen the kiss, but the proposition was denied. Wooyoung pulled away and simultaneously slid his hand down to San’s lips to cover them. 

“Not now, naughty demon. Be patient,” he smirked, jolting his hand away when San opened his mouth to chomp on his fingers. “If we want to get any sleep before practice, now is nap time. And I’m tired. Goodnight.” 

San pouted, his eyes widening like a puppy’s. But Wooyoung only leaned forward, gave him one more chaste kiss, and then snuggled back into his neck. He closed his eyes, and evened his breathing when he felt San’s arm wrap around his waist and bring him even closer than before. 

—

Promotions for the second title track were debatably even busier than the first. Between performances, recordings, fansigns, practice, and the few hours of sleep they actually managed to squeeze in, it was quite hard for San and Wooyoung to continue what they had postponed. However, there was always enough time to tease.

San was called “the Hala Hala demon” more than his own name. 

“What are you gonna do?” Wooyoung harassed him.

“Curse me? 

“Eat me?”

“_Kill _ me?”

With each passing day, San’s eyes became darker. He followed Wooyoung around like a dog waiting for a bone that would never be thrown. Wooyoung brought him as close as possible each day, waving the bone in front of his eyes, then cutting him off with a “you _ evil _little boy.” San performed harder, slept lighter, and smiled less. His gaze slowly became glued to Wooyoung at all times, practically oozing impatience and lust. Just the way Wooyoung liked it. 

The day Hongjoong asked Wooyoung if his boyfriend was okay was the day he had to give in. On the way home from their fansign, he wrapped a hand around San’s thigh and whispered in his ear: “I think Yeosang’s sleeping with Seonghwa hyung tonight.” The older boy had let out such a low, carnal growl, Wooyoung couldn’t help but follow up with: “How scary.” 

That night, after the group had dinner, Yeosang made a beeline for Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s room as Wooyoung led San to his. The moment the door was locked behind them, San practically threw Wooyoung onto his bed.

“Hello, Mr. Hala Hala demon,” Wooyoung watched as San tore his shirt off and looked down on him hungirly. He silently climbed on top of Wooyoung’s hips, grabbed onto his hair, _ tight _, and crashed their lips together painfully. He bit at Wooyoung’s lips long and hard, pulling noises from the younger’s throat that allowed him to shove his tongue into the other’s mouth. When Wooyoung did the same, San bit his tongue too. As Wooyoung broke away for air, San removed his hands from Wooyoung’s hair and shoved them under his shirt, scratching his nails down his skin aggressively. Wooyoung hissed, and looked up to make eye contact with him. In the dim light, Wooyoung could see his pupils were dilated almost as large as his irises. 

“San, are you—” His words were cut off by his own gasp when San suddenly shoved his shirt up to bite his skin. _ Hard _. “Fuck,” he exhaled, throwing his arms around the boy ontop of him and scratching his back in return. San bit down harder. 

Wooyoung yelped at the pain, and San quickly moved to his neck. When Wooyoung curved his nails into San’s shoulders, the older made a mewling noise into his neck that flipped Wooyoung’s switch. He pushed San back by his shoulders as he raised himself up, locked their lips, and leaned forward to switch their positions. But San quickly snaked his hands around Wooyoung’s throat, and shoved him off and back onto the bed. Then he tightened his hands. Wooyoung’s fingers came to cover the other’s in shock, and his eyes blew open to look in distress into San’s almost completely black ones.

“Sa—” Wooyoung choked.

San’s grip grew stronger. 

Wooyoung clawed at San’s hands, attempting to loosen them as San only inched his face closer to Wooyoung’s. He tightened his hold on Wooyoung’s neck until their noses were almost touching as the younger looked at him with terror. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Wooyoung’s knee came up to crotch slam him hard enough he screamed, and his hands flew to hold his groin. 

Wooyoung’s coughing immediately filled the room as he gasped for air and slid off the bed, away from San.

“What— the fuck— is wrong with you?” He heaved. 

San picked his head up from the mattress, his pupils now back to normal and concern consuming his features. “Wooyoung?”

“What the fuck!” Wooyoung screeched. He stood up from the floor and stumbled backwards from the bed; anger, adrenaline, and ragged breathing shaking his body. “Get the fuck out!” he yelled.

“Wait, Wooyoung, Fuck, I—”  
  
“Get out!” Wooyoung repeated.

And with one last look filled with agony, San left the room.

Wooyoung crawled back onto the bed and tried to even his breathing, his heart still beating rapidly and his throat still in pain. 

Minutes later, Yeosang walked into the room, confusion etched onto his expression. He cocked his head at his roommate, who was staring at the bunk above him soullessly. “What happened?” he questioned quietly. 

Subconsciously, Wooyoung’s hands rose to hold his neck gingerly. He considered telling Yeosang what happened, as he was angry and would love to rant to his best friend, but then decided against it. Yeosang hated hearing about his sex life, so venting about San’s sex mishap would probably just make him uncomfortable. 

“Nothing,” answered Wooyoung. “I’m just tired.”

Yeosang nodded silently, noticing the slight wobble in his friend’s voice, but not pressuring him to explain any more. He climbed onto the top bunk as Wooyoung got off his with a sigh to slip on his pajamas and wash his face. Once the younger was back in bed, Yeosang whispered: “Lights out?”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung whispered back. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

As the room was shrouded in darkness, Wooyoung couldn’t help but remember San’s eyes from earlier. He had known, and fucked, San for a considerably large amount of time. Yet, he had never seen his eyes blow that big. And black. At the time, it almost looked… unnatural. Was he just that horny? Did Wooyoung tease him for too long? Is that why he was so damn aggressive? Wooyoung huffed to himself. Nothing he did warranted being strangled that hard. They didn’t even _ do _ that. Anger boiled in his stomach and he thrashed around underneath his sheets until he grew tired. He fell asleep with a frown on his face.

The next morning, he was roused by knocking ringing around the walls of his room. He yawned loudly, immediately pulling himself up into a sitting position. He had to duck his head under the bunk above him to see the face of the member who woke him in the doorway. Of course it was San. Wooyoung’s heart skipped a beat, but not in the good way it usually did.

“Hongjoong said if you want to eat breakfast here, you should now,” San spoke.

A soft “okay” came from the top bunk, but Wooyoung only narrowed his eyes. San sent him a pleading look that only twisted Wooyoung’s face further in response. Taking the hint, San left silently. 

Wooyoung flopped back onto his mattress, anger once again pricking at his skin. Albeit there was much less of it, he didn’t want to forgive San yet. The tiniest bit of fear leaked from his subconscious and mixed with the irritation. He reached under his pillow and pulled out his phone to lazily scroll through some posts about his group. He was sure to avoid his boyfriend’s name.

It was fairly simple for him to avoid San for the day; he slept (or pretended to) in the car, at the stylists, in the waiting room, at the dorm. This wasn’t at all out of the ordinary, except for the fact that San was practically always the one he cuddled with during his daily naps. So when Wooyoung opted to snuggle next to Seonghwa in the car and lay on top of Yunho at musicbank, the members’ gazes turned to San. Who looked like a kicked puppy the whole day. But Wooyoung didn’t mind. The two didn’t speak the entire day.

The next day began with a fansign. It was a bit harder for Wooyoung to ignore San as he sat next to him, laughing and blowing bubbles in Wooyoung’s face. But he managed it. He could see the confusion wash across their fans as he blatantly shrugged off his supposed to be “best friend” every time he so much as looked at him. 

That night they held practice. Closing in on the forty-eight hour mark of being ignored, Wooyoung could tell San was getting desperate. He spent every moment staring longingly at his boyfriend, and for some reason, it only annoyed Wooyoung further. During one of their breaks, San had the guts to walk up behind Wooyoung and grab his hand. The younger immediately pulled away and whirred around, wearing an extremely offended expression. 

“Don’t,” he warned. 

He stared into San’s eyes, hard, and watched as the hurt they swam in turned grimmer. He still didn’t care. Turning back around, he spotted Mingi on the couch watching them. He walked to sit down next to him.

“Um,” Mingi said.

Ignoring him, Wooyoung wiped sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Are you mad at San?”

An exasperated sigh began Wooyoung’s answer. “No, Mingi. I’m not mad at San.”

“That was sarcasm… right?”

Wooyoung gave the older boy a sharp look.

“What’d he do?” 

“He pissed me off.”

“Yeah… but how?”

“You don’t even want to know.” Wooyoung closed his eyes, dropped his head back, and drew in a deep breath.

Mingi pouted. “But I do! That’s why I asked!” 

“Yeah, well, I’m not telling you.”

The rapper was about to rebut when he was cut off by a shrill remark from their oldest member.

“Sannie, you’re bleeding!”

Cracking an eye open, Wooyoung watched Seonghwa cradle San’s face and tilt his head backwards. San lifted his fingers to touch the trickle of blood running from his nose. 

A series of concerned questions flew across the practice room, and soon San was hidden from Wooyoung’s vision as he was surrounded by other members. Both him and Mingi stayed seated as the boy was fretted over. Hongjoong came over and shooed them off the couch, and promptly replaced them with San holding tissues to his nose. He laid on the couch and strained his neck to make sure the blood flowed back into his head. Then they continued practice without him. Wooyoung didn’t speak to him again.

The next morning, San woke up with another bloody nose. Wooyoung pretended he didn’t know. San didn’t even look at him anymore. A twinge of worry joined the fading anger in Wooyoung’s heart. 

He bled again after their music show performance. And again at dinner. Each time he did, he seemed to grow quieter. He drew further away from everyone who reached out to help him, insisting he was fine, he was alright. When Hongjoong asked him if he wanted to go to the hospital, he looked offended. Angry, even.

“I’m fine. I promise.”

That night, Wooyoung was woken up around three in the morning by his bladder. He stumbled into the empty hallway, not expecting light to already be spilling from the cracked bathroom door. He slowly creaked the entrance all the way open and peeked around the corner to meet San’s eyes in the mirror. He held a wad of toilet paper to his nose, blood splattered on the counter below him. Wooyoung watched his pupils dilate in the mirror, just like the day their fight began. But then he looked down, swiped his toilet paper across the blood on the counter, and turned to push past Wooyoung and out of the bathroom.

Wooyoung’s heart rose into his throat. He quickly grabbed San’s wrist, and yanked him backwards behind him and into the room again. He closed the door, then stood in front of it. San tugged his arm free of Wooyoung’s grasp, almost gurgling the blood in his mouth. 

“San,” Wooyoung spoke softly to his boyfriend for the first time in a while. “Are you alright?”

San kept his head tilted backwards to avoid bleeding on the floor. His eyes strained to look at Wooyoung over the toilet paper covering the lower half of his face.

“‘M fine.” He replied thickly.

“Are you sure?” Wooyoung pressed.

“Mhm.”

“I—” Wooyoung lifted his hand to caress San’s arm. “I’m just… Worried about you.”

At that, San practically gagged. His eyebrows threaded together, his eyes narrowed, and he shrugged Wooyoung off violently. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?”  
  
Wooyoung felt his stomach churn as San stepped closer to him.

“You’re worried about me. Don’t fucking lie.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are. Why would you be worried about the person you’ve been ignoring for days?” 

Wooyoung scoffed, folding his arms over his body defensively. “You deserved it.”

San brought his head down to look evenly at Wooyoung, his lips curling into a smile of disbelief. “I deserved it?” 

“Yeah, you did, San.” 

“What did I fucking _ do _ ?” San’s tore the tissue paper away from his nose to throw both his arms into the air like he was shrugging his shoulders, manic grin widening as his jaw dropped. Blood ran from his nose into his mouth. “What did I _ do to you _, Wooyoung?”

“You _ hurt _me!” Wooyoung seethed.

San quickly brought his arms back down, and his smile fell. “I never hurt you.”

“You _ did _.”

“_I didn’t _ !” San raised his voice. “I would never hurt you! You kicked me out for no fucking reason! Why? Why did you kick me out for no reason?” Blood splattered onto the ground, falling from San’s chin. “Why are you fucking ignoring me? Do you _ hate me _, Wooyoung?”

Wooyoung took a step back, a feeling of dread suddenly washing over him. 

Jolting forwards after him, San screamed in his face. “_ Do you fucking hate me _?” 

And with that, Wooyoung slammed open the bathroom door and ran back to his room. In fear for San and his relationship, and of San himself, he wept silently until he fell back asleep.

—

San’s nose stopped bleeding, and he started smiling again. The members all clapped him on the back; told him they were glad he was okay. Except for Wooyoung. But this time around, Wooyoung wouldn’t say it was exactly anger keeping him away from San. He was mad, yes, but the emotion was slowly drowning in a sea of _ fright _. Fright born from confusion, worry, and some horrible guttural feeling Wooyoung experienced every time San laughed. It didn’t sound the same anymore.

They continued hala hala activities as if nothing had happened, as if nothing was still wrong. As if Wooyoung wasn’t still ignoring San, and as if San didn’t seem completely fine with it. That was almost the scariest part. Until a few days later.

As he does at least three times a week, Wooyoung woke up around three in the morning with a strong urge to use the bathroom. He quietly sat up and placed his feet on the ground, careful not to wake Yeosang. But, before he could stand, a floorboard whined in the corner of the dark room. Wooyoung’s neck snapped in the direction of the sound, and his eyes narrowed. 

A shadow stood in the darkness just a few feet away from him, its head tilted slightly downwards, watching him.

Wooyoung’s throat immediately constricted and goosebumps flew across his skin. His body froze, but he frantically scanned the obscurity in any hope of recognition. When his vision adjusted enough for him to make out the shadow’s average stature and skinny frame, he could’ve wet himself. He could feel his heartbeat in his entire body; it pounded deafeningly in his ears. 

Mouth cotton dry, he hesitantly parted his lips to whisper aloud:

“San?”

The shadow made no movement.  
Wooyoung stared harder up at it, slowly recognizing his boyfriend’s sharp cheekbones and jawline. It just stared back.

“Sannie… what are you doing?” Wooyoung failed to hide the tremble in his voice.

San didn’t answer. He just kept staring.  
  
In terror, Wooyoung began to curl back into himself until he was once again in bed. San didn’t move. After an agonizing hour or two of watching the motionless shadow, Wooyoung’s eyelids began to grow heavy. So he turned, faced the wall, and eventually fell asleep.

When he was awoken by his roommate the next morning, San was gone.

“Did you sleep okay last night, Yeosangie?”

Yeosang hummed pleasantly at Wooyoung’s question. “Like a baby.”

By the end of the day, Wooyoung had almost convinced himself he had imagined it. San was hitting it off like normal with the other members, and continuing to ignore him like their _ new _ normal. Of course, he was proven wrong that night when we awoke in a cold sweat to the same shadow in the same corner. Still watching. He just pulled his blanket over his head and willed himself to go back to sleep.

Wooyoung was simply too frightened to confront his boyfriend. At this point, he was scared of San. He was scared of his bandmate. He was _ terrified _ of his best friend, his _ baby _. And he hated it. He was absolutely miserable. Wooyoung loved San. He still did, and he knew he still did. That almost made everything worse. He was living in fear of the person he loved the most, and he had no idea what to do about it.

San visited Wooyoung every night since the first, and each time, Wooyoung would wake up and see him. It had almost been a week when exhaustion started to catch up to him, and it was obvious. Kind and caring Yunho took it upon himself to ask.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Wooyoung raked his hand through his hair over and over to ward off sleepiness as Yunho approached the couch. 

“You look… really tired.” Even though they were the only people in the living room, Yunho lowered his voice as if not to embarrass Wooyoung.

The younger let out a snort in response. “Cause I am.”

Flopping onto the couch, Yunho reached to grab Wooyoung and pulled him into his arms. Wooyoung hung his head on the other’s shoulder, letting himself feel safe for the first time in a while. 

“Is everything okay? You can tell me anything, you know.”  
Wooyoung’s heart swelled at his friend’s genuine concern. “It’s just been hard to sleep lately.”

“For any particular reason?” Yunho pushed. 

Instead of responding, Wooyoung just snuggled further into Yunho’s body.

“Does it have anything to do with… with your fight win San?”

Yunho felt Wooyoung go frigid in his hold. Thorns of fear wrapped around the smaller’s throat and he sat in silence again. His mind raced with what this must look like to the other members, to Yunho. 

Yunho. 

San’s roommate.

“It’s okay if you don’t—”

“Yeah. Actually, it does. But Yunho, can you _ pretty please _do me a favor?” Wooyoung cut the other off harshly. He twisted his body around so they could face each other. Yunho’s eyes were wide, his mouth still open with the words he was planning to speak. He quickly swallowed them, and nodded.

“Okay. Can you like, pretend to sleep tonight but never actually sleep and see if San ever leaves your room? And tell me if he does? And not ask why? Please? Pretty please?”

Yunho’s eyebrows knitted at Wooyoung’s desperate sounding request. “I…” he trailed off.

“Please, Yunho.” Wooyoung clasped his hands together. “Fucking _ please _.”

“Okay. If it helps you sleep at night.” Yunho’s confused expression didn’t change.

Wooyoung melted back into the other’s body. “Thank you,” he whispered against Yunho’s shirt.

“Yeah, no problem.”

Just a few hours later, Wooyoung fell asleep the tiniest bit easier thinking of Yunho awake in his bed. But the night was like any other; eventually he was roused by the shadow in the corner. With his blanket pulled just past his nose, Wooyoung glared at the figure in the corner. The mint green color of San’s pajamas could almost be seen from the moonlight pouring through the window. Wooyoung’s whole body ached with fear, exhaustion, and sadness. He fell asleep against his own will.

The group was rushed to an early schedule the next morning, leaving Wooyoung no time to approach Yunho. But with the one, horribly confused glance the older sent him, he assumed the worst. Anticipation ate at his insides as he performed and met their fans, the feeling reaching its peak the moment he walked back through their dorm door. As all the other members scattered to clean themselves up, he followed Yunho into the empty kitchen. 

Yunho walked to the fridge and Wooyoung waited at the table. The older spoke without even turning around.

“He left the room around three am last night.”

Wooyoung put his head in hands. 

“He didn’t come back until after I fell asleep, I guess.” Yunho set a glass of water in front of Wooyoung and sat across from him. Wooyoung didn’t lift his head. “Can I ask why now?”

“He’s watching me sleep,” Wooyoung whispered to the table.

“What?” Yunho leaned in.

“He’s. Watching. Me. Sleep.”

“What?” 

Wooyoung sat up straight, forcing Yunho backwards into his seat again. The bewilderment riddling his features slowly turned more concerned as he watched Wooyoung draw in a ragged breath.

“Want to do me another favor?” 

“What?” Yunho echoed for the third time.

“Don’t let him leave your room tonight.”

Yunho paused, parting his mouth to gnaw at his lower lip. “How?”

Wooyoung laced his sweaty hands together under the table. “I don’t know.”

A loud lawn suddenly sounded behind Wooyoung’s back. He whirled around to look at the kitchen entrance. 

San stopped in his tracks to stare at Wooyoung and Yunho, the small smile formerly on his lips slowly setting into a firm line. Wooyoung could practically see his eyes dilate from across the room. 

Panic immediately flooded Wooyoung’s body. He gave one last glance to Yunho, who looked like a deer in headlights, before he stood with feet like lead and walked to his room. He locked the door, and prayed to every deity he could think of that Yunho would help him. 

He skipped dinner to “sleep”, though he couldn’t bring himself to keep his eyes closed for more than five minutes at a time. He laid in bed for hours, a painful feeling of dread gradually spreading throughout his whole body. When Yeosang flicked out the last light and settled into his bed, Wooyoung stared at their door, and waited. It would either open, or it wouldn’t. 

Around one absolutely harrowing hour later, it was about 2:50 in the morning. And Wooyoung heard footsteps in the hallway. His heart ceased beating. What he didn’t expect was for the footsteps to walk right past his door, and continue down the hallway. He immediately crept out of bed and cracked open his door to catch a glimpse of Yunho entering the eldest of the group’s room. Looking behind himself once, he snuck up to stand in the ajar doorway of Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s room. 

Yunho was bent in front of Hongjoong’s bed, one hand on the leader’s shoulder, shaking him.

“Hey, Hongjoong. Hongjoong.”

“Yunho?” Hongjoong’s voice cracked with sleep. “What’s wrong?”

“Um, San’s on the ceiling.” 

A hand curled around Wooyoung’s mouth, and he was yanked backwards.

The door in front of him slammed shut as he was dragged backward at an inhuman speed. His hands flew up to claw at the one that muffled his screams, but its grip only grew stronger. He knew exactly which room he was pulled into. He watched the door swing shut and lock on its own as the hand on his face moved to cup the side of his jaw. He felt a pair of lips ghost against his ear.

“Wooyoungie.”  
  
San’s voice was thick but cracked at the same time. It wasn’t his voice at all. Wooyoung willed away the tears that threatened the back of his eyes and tried to ease his erratic breathing, too afraid to move.

“I miss you,” San hissed again. He kept his hand under Wooyoung’s chin as he walked in front of the smaller, facing him with a grin that stretched way too far. His eyes were completely black.

Wooyoung tried to stifle a whimper. San slowly dragged his hand down to rest lightly on the other’s neck, and leaned in so close their noses were almost touching. “Do you miss me too, Wooyoungie?”

Still frozen in fear, Wooyoung’s only response was a silent tear. San’s horrible smile quickly turned into a violent frown. He tightened his grip on Wooyoung’s neck. The light above them flickered rapidly as he raised Wooyoung into the air with one arm, choking him. Wooyoung pried at his hand, digging his nails into San’s skin and drawing blood. San constricted Wooyoung’s neck further. Wooyoung coughed and thrashed in his hold, struggling aimlessly for a few seconds before he abruptly swung his leg forward in a forceful kick to San’s stomach. 

Letting out a hellish scream, San dropped Wooyoung who immediately scrambled away from him. All the drawers in the room began to open and close forcefully in time with the flashing of the lights as San coughed bitterly, holding his gut. Wooyoung backed himself against Yunho’s bottom bunk, gulping for air. With the slamming of all the furniture shaking the room, Yunho’s phone slid off his bed and clattered to the ground next to Wooyoung. He quickly snatched the device and clutched it in his hands, glancing at San. He was facing the wall, standing completely still. Wooyoung quickly unlocked Yunho’s phone and sent a text to Hongjoong:

**YUNHO: Help**.

As soon as the message delivered, all the lights in the room stopped flickering and shone brightly; the drawers all opened and didn’t close again. Wooyoung watched in terror as San threw his head back impossibly far, beaming at Wooyoung upside-down, before jerking his head forward and banging it against the wall. Bile rose into Wooyoung’s throat when San repeated the action again, even harder. And then again. 

“San…” he plead quietly.

The older boy halted, but didn’t turn around.

“Wooyoung?” 

Wooyoung’s heart lurched at sound of San’s normal voice. His normal voice, but filled with fear. He was still there.

But then the boy flung his head against the wall again with a scream. Wooyoung gasped. Yunho’s phone lit up in his hands, illuminating a message from Hongjoong.

**HONGJOONG: Can you get out?**

San continued to throw his head against the formerly white surface as it started to turn red.

**YUNHO: If you can get the door.**

“Wooyoungie, do you love me?” The haunting voice spoke from San’s body again. “Do you know I love you? I cannot do it without you. I cannot be without you. I hate it when you are not with me. I hate it when you ignore me. I hate it. I hate it so much.” San ran a finger along his face, then dragged it down the wall in a trail of blood. “Have I hurt you, Wooyoungie?” 

Wooyoung stayed silent as San painted the walls with his blood. Behind his head, Wooyoung could make out:

_HEARTS AWAKENED._

_ The Hala Hala demon, _he thought.

“I cannot help it,” San continued.

**HONGJOONG: Door unlocked. We’re waiting right outside. Text NOW when you’re ready.**

_ LIVE. _

“I just love you so much.”

_ A— _

“I just love you so much, that sometimes, I want to kill you.”

_ —FRAID. _

_ HEARTS AWAKENED, LIVE AFRAID. _

San’s arm dropped back to his side. He continued to stare into the bloodied wall. 

Wooyoung planted his feet on the ground, and lifted his body into a squatting position.

**YUNHO: NOW.**

The door burst open, and Wooyoung immediately sprung into a full sprint out of the room. He could hear San screech behind him. The second he made it through, Hongjoong slammed the door shut and Yunho and Jongho lodged a chair under the knob. San banged against the door and screamed with what sounded like a thousand voices. A thousand horrible, demonic voices. Shaking, Wooyoung stood with his friends and listened to what was supposed to be his boyfriend. After a few seconds, Hongjoong grabbed his wrist and briskly led him away from the shrieking, Yunho and Jongho in tow. 

The rest of the group sat silently in Hongjoong’s room, Seonghwa and Yeosang holding hands and Mingi chewing his fingernails next to them. Upon seeing Wooyoung, Seonghwa let out a pained noise and beckoned him to come sit with them. His shivering body was quickly consumed in hugs.

“Are you okay, Youngie?” Mingi softly asked.

Wooyoung let out a shaky sigh. “Yeah.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Jongho spoke aloud.

“The Hala Hala demon,” Wooyoung whispered.

“The what?” questioned Hongjoong.

“The Hala Hala demon. San. Hearts awakened, live _ afraid _. He wrote it on the wall. With his own blood.”

“Wait, what? But didn’t atinys just make that up? The Hala Hala demon is _ real _?” Mingi stressed, his voice heightening with fear.

“When you talk about an entity’s presence enough, eventually, it begins to exist. Whether It was originally ‘real’ or not.” 

All heads turned to Yeosang.

“What?” He defended himself. “I’ve watched enough anime to know about this stuff by now.”  
  
“Then what should we do, Yeosang?” Yunho genuinely asked.

“Exorcise him, I guess.”

“I’m pretty sure the church isn’t open for business right now,” Jongho said.

“Well, actually,”—Yeosang reached under his shirt to pull out the rosary he always wore to sleep—“This might be enough, since the Hala Hala demon is only a few weeks old, I’m guessing. If you press this against San’s bare skin for long enough, it’ll release the demon from his body. At least, it probably will. Maybe.”

The room fell silent.

Hongjoong sighed. “Give it to me, I’ll go try.”  
  
“Hyung, no,” Yunho and Jongho spoke in unison. They eyed each other.

“I’m tallest.”

“I’m strongest.”

“Rock, paper, scissors. Whoever loses goes,” Seonghwa settled for them.

Unsurprisingly, Yunho won the game. Yeosang took off his necklace and handed it to Jongho, who regarded it warily as he walked to exit the room.

“Here goes nothing,” he said, and left.

All the members listened as Jongho’s footsteps descended down the hall.

“I’m scared,” whispered Mingi.

Wooyoung squeezed the older boy’s hand in response, his heart pounding against his ribcage. Was this it? Was he finally going to get his boyfriend back? Was this all going to be over? San’s normal voice calling out to him in pain replayed in his head. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for it to be true.

After a mere minute or two, the door burst open. Jongho fell through and slammed it shut again, locking the handle and pressing back against it. His eyes were wide. The members waited silently for an explanation.

“Um. He’s a lot stronger now.”

Wooyoung wilted. He was still stuck. San was stuck.

“I think it needs to be Wooyoung.”

“W—What?” Wooyoung’s disappointment quickly turned into panic. “Why me? He said he wanted to _ kill _me!”

“When I walked in, he wasn’t looking and was all like ‘Wooyoungie~,’ but when he saw it was me, he started screaming and shit and attacked me! He was trying to rip my throat out with his bare hands, I had to kick him in the fucking face to get him off for long enough for me to run away! And oh yeah, I left the door open.”

Wooyoung put his head in his hands. Of course it had to be him. But goddamn, he really didn’t want to die tonight. But he really didn’t want his boyfriend to be possessed by a demon, either. San was still there. San needed Wooyoung to save him. He really only had one option here.

He opened his palm for Jongho to drop the rosary into. 

“Wooyoung, please be careful,” Seonghwa begged the younger. 

“I will.”  
  
“Wait, do you want me to go with you? I’ll hide from him, but I don’t want you to go alone. What if something… unexpected happens...” Yunho trailed off, wringing his hands nervously. 

Wooyoung looked at him gratefully. “Thank you, Yunho.”

The dancer nodded and walked to stand with the other.

“You can do it, Woo,” Yeosang said softly. 

“Thank you. I’m gonna try.” Wooyoung gave the room a final salute and took a deep breath.

_ For San. _

Then he carefully creaked the door open, and crept into the dim hallway. Yunho followed a few steps behind. The fear wracking Wooyoung’s soul for weeks collided with his ever-lasting love for San, and filled him with determination. It was time to save his boyfriend.

He had just approached the entrance to San’s room when his barefoot came in contact with something sticky on the floor. Blood. Blood, and with a better look, a trail of it, leading away from the bedroom and towards the living room. Wooyoung squinted at the liquid in the dark, slowly but surely following it. Anxiety coiled in his stomach as the trail led him through the hall, past the living room, and towards the last room in the dorm: the kitchen. Wooyoung turned and signaled for Yunho to stay behind the corner where the living room meets the kitchen, and the older flashed him a thumbs up. With one more deep, yet shaky breath, Wooyoung entered.

Everything that could open was open; everything on the walls was upside-down. San sat in the middle of the floor, legs gathered in his arms as he rocked slowly back and forth, once again facing a wall riddled with writing in blood.

_ HALAHALAHALAHALAHALAHALAHALAHALAHALAHALAHALAHALAHALAHALAHA _

“Sannie?” 

San stopped rocking at the sound of Wooyoung’s voice.

“Youngie?” he questioned, his normal voice breaking through again.

“Yeah, Sannie it’s me.” Wooyoung moved closer to the demon, both his fists balled, one concealing the rosary. “I miss you, Sannie. I miss you so much.” He wasn’t lying.

A violent chill seemed to run through San’s body at the words.

“Really?” The demonic voice responded. “I miss you too. It hurts, Wooyoungie. I cannot help it. I love you so much.”

“I— I love you too,” Wooyoung told the truth again.

With that, San stood. He turned to Wooyoung, the terrifying smile one again stretching his face. Then he raced towards the other, who immediately closed his eyes and tensed his body in fear. But then, a pair of arms laced around his waist gently, and San laid his head on the smaller’s shoulder. Hesitantly, Wooyoung placed his arms around the demon’s neck.

They hugged in silence for a few seconds, until San lifted his head, and spoke right into Wooyoung’s ear with the voice of the devil: “Was that an invitation, Wooyoungie?”

And Wooyoung pressed the rosary into the back of his boyfriend’s neck.

The demon screamed in a million octaves. The lights went haywire, every cabinet flung open and closed, every object on the wall shook with rage. Wooyoung only pressed the cross harder into San’s skin. 

He needed him back.

And Wooyoung always got what he needed. 

The horrible voices slowly slipped away until the only scream left was of San, himself. Just San. He went limp in Wooyoung’s arms.

Wooyoung slowly lowered them to the ground, the dread coiling around his heart finally melting into relief. He couldn’t help the tears that started to stream down his cheeks when San suddenly groaned, his hands coming up to hold his bloodied head. 

“Youngie?” San whimpered. “What happened?”

He sounded like the love of Wooyoung’s life.

“Nothing, my angel,” Wooyoung responded. “We’ve just gotta take the day off tomorrow.”

**Author's Note:**

> idk what i was doing writing this but... im sorry..?  
talk 2 me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/YUNHOBABlE)


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